I take a cautious step backwards.
“Who’s at the door, Pinky?” calls someone who sounds like Jamie.
Pinky scowls at me but opens the door wide, allowing me to see the bright living room. Jamie is sitting on a plump sofa, holding a tablet and wearing a pair of cat-ear headphones.
He hastily pulls them off. “Ollie!” he exclaims brightly. “Come in!”
I eye Pinky uneasily as I scuttle past her. But she doesn’t attack. She merely shuts the door.
“Pinky, bring us tea and cakes, please,” says Jamie, as he gestures for me to follow him over to the large tablethat is under a huge window. It is very similar to Tristan’s rooms and the not-quite familiarity is making me feel a bit disorientated.
I take the seat Jamie offers me, just as a hoard of pink-haired people rush in and efficiently set the table with tea and a dizzying array of tiny cakes. What is it with this place and tea and food? I mean, I’m not at all complaining, heaven knows I love tea and food. But the obsession is a little odd.
Jamie pours tea from the fancy teapot like a pro. Even the cups are gorgeous. Being surrounded by nice things is really nice. I am definitely appreciating it.
I heap a ton of pretty cakes onto my plate. They look delicious. But I’m not going to wimp out and allow myself to get distracted. I came here for a reason. And it wasn’t cake.
“I…um…was wondering if you knew how Llywelyn is?” I stammer.
It feels good to get the words out. Images of Llywelyn’s silent tears have been haunting me relentlessly.
Jamie blinks at me, and then he smiles. “Oh god! I’m so glad it is not just me who is worried! Sometimes I wonder if fey are born without hearts.”
I nod. That doesn’t answer my question, but hopefully Jamie will get to that in a minute.
He pops a yellow cake into his mouth. “I’ve been trying to find out.”
I take a sip of my tea. My stupid stomach is being all queasy.
“He won’t see me,” Jamie says sadly. “So I’ve been trying to find out who his friends are.”
He sighs and puts his cup down without drinking from it. “Either no one is talking to me. Or they are taking this resyn stuff super seriously. Or.” He pauses and looks right at me. “Llywelyn doesn’t have any friends.”
My stomach twists and there is a nasty taste in my mouth. “He is an asshole. It is hardly surprising that he doesn’t have any friends.”
This is my area of expertise. I know everything there is to know about being an unlikeable bastard.
Jamie sighs and sips his tea. “Does he not have any friends because he is an asshole? Or is he an asshole because he has no one?”
Ouch. That hurts. It is hitting entirely too close to home. Driving everyone away and not giving a shit, is one thing. Being a sad, lonely twat, is quite another. Personally, I want to be the first one. I’d much prefer it to be my fault. Craving connection and being constantly rejected… that’s just too painful to even think about.
“We need to check on him,” I say firmly. I have to focus on Llywelyn, and not fall down a pit of self-analysis. And I really, really don’t want to start thinking of the asshole prince as any sort of kindred spirit. There are limits to my empathy.
Jamie nods enthusiastically. “But how?”
I stare at the little twink in exasperation. How can anyone be so clueless?
“Aren’t you married to Rhydian?” I ask.
A big stupid grin spreads across Jamie’s face, and his eyes light up. It is sickening to watch.
“Yes.” He nods.
“And he is like the king?” I say. Holy stars, it is like talking to a child.
Jamie gives me a confused look and another nod.
I sigh heavily. “So that makes you like the queen. You can go where you like and see who you want. No one can stop you.”
